Car Wash
by theangelshavemymind
Summary: The Doctor and Rose were just supposed to wash the car. Of course things get out of hand. Metacrisis/Rose. One-shot.


It was a simple enough task. Just to wash the car. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But even simple tasks sometimes escalated quickly when it came to the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

"Dad wanted us to wash the car," Rose announces, coming into the room.

The Doctor looks up from his book, nerdy glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He smiles at the sight of Rose. She's dressed in short shorts and a tank top, hair pulled back in a loose bun, obviously ready for some manual labor which, judging by her rain boots, involved water.

"Is Tony planning on helping?" the Doctor asks, setting his book down.

Rose shakes her head. "He and mum are going out to shop for clothes."

"Tell him I'm sorry," the Doctor says, arching his eyebrows.

"Mum's not _that _bad."

"Three hours looking for one pair of jeans after I'd told her I had found a pair already."

"She just wanted to help," Rose says with a wave of her hand. She tosses the Doctor a pair of gloves. "Now get up and come help me."

He picks up the gloves and stands up, stretching his lanky frame. Rose heads outside after telling the Doctor to put on some clothes that he'd be okay with getting wet. He goes to the back bedroom, which is his current place of residence at the Tyler mansion.

He has been in this world for nearly two weeks now. Things are going well between him and Rose. Not so well that they'd progressed into a more intimate relationship though. There have been times, like when they'd ended up alone in the kitchen one night doing the dished together and his trainers had slipped on the slick floor causing him to shove Rose up against the kitchen counter in order to keep his balance. They had just stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked, his hands on either side of her, palms against the counter, her hands against his chest as she tried to brace him from falling any closer against her. Of course Pete had walked in at that moment and they'd sprung apart like children caught doing something naughty. But other than the fact that things occasionally happened, nothing _really_ happened, although the Doctor was starting to hope that something would because he was getting quite tired of noticing how Rose's hips swayed when she walked, or how arousing that little tongue in teeth smile of hers really was.

The Doctor shimmies out of his suit and puts on one of the t-shirts that he had bought during his shopping excursion with Rose and Jackie. He pulls on a pair of tan shorts and then slips on his trainers without socks. He places his glasses on the bedside table and then heads outside to meet Rose.

She is standing in front of Pete's Hummer, looking thoughtfully at a bucket of water that's overflowing with soapy suds.

"Why doesn't your dad just take the car to the carwash?" the Doctor asks, coming to stand beside Rose.

"He likes to wash his," her fingers form air quotes, "'baby' by hand."

The Doctor nods. "Fair enough." He pulls on the gloves Rose had given him and snaps the latex saying, "Shall we get started?"

Rose picks up the soapy bucket and carries it over to the car where she sets it down beside a tire. She reaches in with gloved hands and pulls out a sponge lathered in soap, which she smears over the hood of the car. The Doctor follows suit, spreading the soapy water about with his gloves.

They start on opposite sides of the car, covering it in soap. The Doctor tries to make light conversation about how Tony was doing in school and whatnot. Their conversations usually went something like this, just talking about normal things, Rose's family mostly. It was because neither of them wanted to address any deeper issues, and there was almost an endless amount of things one could talk about when the conversation was about Jackie Tyler.

Having thoroughly soaped his side of the car, the Doctor moves on to the trunk, but Rose is already there.

"I'll go work on the hood then?" he suggests.

Rose shakes her head. "It'll go faster if we both soap it up."

The Doctor nods and steps closer to Rose. They both reach up and began covering the metal of the car in soapy suds. The Doctor watches Rose out of the corner of his eye. She is concentrating hard on her placement of the soap, her eyes fixed only on the car. He thinks she looked particularly lovely this morning and he is very much liked the little tank top she was wearing. It's yellow and reminds him of bananas.

Rose reaches up to put suds on the top of the windshield. Her stretching causes her tank top to ride up slightly, and the Doctor can't help but stare at the bit of skin that has been revealed. She must have seen his eyes drift downward because she quickly puts her arm down.

"Sorry," the Doctor mutters, looking away and blushing slightly.

Rose doesn't say anything. She continues to soap away at the windshield. The Doctor bends back down toward the bucket, feeling rather stupid. He gathers up a bunch of the suds and lathers them over the windshield.

He's just about to go to the bucket for another round when Rose says softly, "You missed a spot."

She sidesteps over to him and squeezes in between him and the car so that she can scrub at a bird poop stain on the glass. The Doctor watches the back of her head, trying not to focus on the fact that Rose is very, very close to him. So close in fact, that if he were to lean forward ever so slightly, his hips would be pressing right into her bum.

He shuts his eyes. That wasn't something he needed to be thinking about right now. He shakes his head and focuses on his breathing. Could this body be any more human? He really needs a distraction. He's about to make up an excuse about needing a drink, when Rose turns around to face him.

If the Doctor thought they had been close a moment ago, he was wrong. Somehow Rose was even closer to him now. Their bodies were almost touching, he could practically feel the heat coming off her skin. His gaze drops downward, eyes lingering on her neck and then slipping down to stare at her chest, which is rising and falling quickly.

"Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes shoot back up to Rose's face. Her eyes are dark, darker than he'd ever seen, pupils blown wide, black orbs surrounded by the faintest line of golden hazel. The Doctor can only assume that his eyes are the same, he certainly isn't breathing normally, his breath coming out in short gasps.

"Rose."

It's a plea, a husked whine that comes from his throat despite his will, but it seems to have exactly the effect on Rose that he wanted.

Her mouth crashes into his with a force hard enough to bruise. He has to brace himself against the windshield because Rose is pulling him down by his t-shirt, her wet, gloved fingers fisted in the thin fabric.

There's no movement of lips, nothing, just their mouths pressed together like when they were on the beach. The Doctor isn't quite sure how long Rose's lips stay against his, but he suddenly realizes that he needs to breathe. He pulls back from her with a gasp and then looks down at her through lidded eyes. Her tongue darts out to rewet her lips and she is about to say something, but he stops her with his mouth.

This time the kiss is much more. This time the Doctor is going for it. He moves his lips against Rose's, making her moan into his mouth. It's that sound that urges him on. He opens her mouth with his and runs his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. She presses closer to him and he can feel her hands slip into his hair, still gloved and wet.

His hands slip on the windshield despite his gloves and he falls forward slightly, pressing Rose into the back of the car and covering her back with soapy suds. He pulls away from her to say sorry, but she cuts him off by kissing him again.

He closes his eyes and lets her assault his mouth with hers. He braces himself against the windshield, hoping that the small amount of traction he's found on the slippery surface will hold. Rose's tongue invades his mouth and a low growl rumbles from the back of his throat, a very human sound that he didn't think he would ever make.

The Doctor is surprised to feel warm hands cupping the back of his neck. Rose, having taken off her gloves, is now running her fingers through the short hairs there. The Doctor hisses into her mouth as she pulls on his hair, her fingernails cutting into his scalp slightly.

His gloves soon come off as well and then his hands wander, touching every bit of Rose he can reach while still keeping his lips glued to hers. His fingers work their way into her hair and he tips her had back ever so slightly, his lips moving down from her mouth to the column of her throat.

He nips at her pulse point, eliciting a sound from her that's something between a whine and a moan. He can feel her hands tugging at his hair again and he puts his hands to good use, smoothing them over her skin, which is wet and slick from the suds that have dripped down from the windshield.

His fingers dance over her collar bone, slipping beneath the spaghetti straps of her top, the pads of his thumbs brushing over her shoulders, feeling her pulse beating under her thin skin, caressing and feeling. Her kiss becomes more urgent and she nips at his bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth and sucking hard on it. He subconsciously grinds his hips into hers and she gasps into his mouth.

Her hands slide up under his shirt, her fingers splaying over his toned stomach, making him inhale sharply at the touch. His shirt rides up as Rose moves her hands higher, her fingers running over the light dusting of hair under her palms. Her hand lingers over his heart, feeling the single beating under his skin.

The Doctor pushes the straps of her tank top off her shoulders, taking her bra strap off in the process. His fingers inch down from her neck, lower and lower, warm skin and fabric. Rose groans and the Doctor realizes that he's hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck with his mouth.

His fingers still in their quest so that he can focus on his mouth, sucking and biting the spot under Rose's right ear. He swirls his tongue over said spot and Rose moans loudly. The Doctor applies some pressure with his fingers on Rose's skin, running his thumbs over her collar bone in time with his mouth at her neck.

She shivers beneath him and then her hands are in his hair again, grabbing his head so that she can bring him up to her mouth and crash their lips together.

This time it's the Doctor who invades her mouth. His tongue slides past her lips and he runs it over every corner of Rose's mouth, tasting and feeling. He inhales deeply and everything that fills his senses is Rose.

Then Rose is pulling away, looking at him and gasping out, "Doctor. Please. I need you. Now."

He nods and then they're running, hand in hand, heats beating so fast as they rush into the house, leaving the car still covered in suds. They don't even bother to close the front door all the way as they run up the stairs.

Once they are on the top floor the Doctor pauses to ask, "Where?"

"God I don't care," Rose replies, before shoving him up against the wall and latching onto his mouth again.

He steers them in the direction of his bedroom, taking care to keep his lips against hers, and his hands on every inch of skin he can reach. Her knees collide with the back of the bed and they both fall onto it, him on top of her. His hands still momentarily as he looks down at her and then he asks her if this is okay. She nods enthusiastically and then leans up to place kisses on the features of his face.

The next few hours are filled with whispered words and skin against skin, light caresses, heat and mingled breath, tongues and teeth, feeling and discovering, promises and declarations, entirely the Doctor and Rose Tyler, as it should be.


End file.
